


The Wishing Well

by sanzuh



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won, Be Careful What You Wish For, Character Death, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Magic, Or not, but it's okay because nobody likes him, more tags will be added for chapter 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 03:00:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21487225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanzuh/pseuds/sanzuh
Summary: Prince Jon is fostered in Winterfell. Growing up, Jon and Sansa are fond of each other, but having little in common, they are not particularly close. At the age of eighteen, Jon is set to return to the capital. Ned and the girls will accompany him on the journey back south.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Sansa Stark, Loras/Aegon, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 130
Collections: JonsaWeek2019





	The Wishing Well

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Jonsa Week, Day 3: King's Landing

> _i._

_Prince Jon is fostered in Winterfell. Growing up, Jon and Sansa are fond of each other, but having little in common, they are not particularly close. At the age of eighteen, Jon is set to return to the capital. Ned and the girls will accompany him on the journey back south._

"Aren't you excited to return to the capital, Jon?" Sansa asks him, his face growing more sullen with every word.

He shrugs. "Not really."

"You'll be see your family again."

"You are also my family," he mutters, looking down at his feet. 

She doesn't know how to respond to that. "Will you tell me about King's Landing?"

His answer is another shrug. "There's not much to tell."

"Don't be silly, Jon! From what I've heard, it sounds marvellous!"

The corner of his mouth curls up into a reluctant smile. "I hope it will be for you, Sansa."

_ii._

_Ned and the girls arrive in King's Landing. Sansa overhears a conversation between Ned and Rhaenys, who says there's a chance Sansa could stay in King's Landing. Infatuated with the splendour of the capital and fancying herself in love with the Crown Prince, Sansa starts daydreaming about her wedding to Prince Aegon._

"The prince will look so handsome in red and black!" she sighs as Jeyne helps her put her hair up into the complicated braided crown the women of King's Landing favour.

"I wish I could marry a prince," Jeyne answers dreamily.

Sansa bites her lip. Jeyne is only a steward's daughter, she could never marry a prince, but it would be rude to tell her that, so Sansa holds her tongue.

"I've heard the Myrish make lace that looks like spun silver, just like Prince Aegon's hair. Do you think Father would order me some for my wedding veil?"

_iii._

_Margaery Tyrell arrives in the capital with her ladies and her brother Loras. She strikes up a friendship with Sansa and invites her to become her lady in waiting. Sansa is flattered, but tries to explain that she's not sure her father will allow her to travel to Highgarden._

Margaery offers her a conspiratorial smile. "You wouldn't be coming to Highgarden. I'll be staying in King's Landing."

"You will?" Sansa asks with a frown she hopes won't be considered discourteous.

The other girl takes her hand. "Let me share a secret with you, Sansa. I'm to marry Prince Aegon on the first day of the new year!"

_iv._

_Sansa and Arya go hawking with Rhaenys and Margaery. When they return to the Red Keep, they meet Prince Viserys. _

The older Targaryen's hair is unkempt, and his eyes flicker nervously over all of their faces.

"Uncle Viserys!" Princess Rhaenys calls out. Her voice is cheerful enough, but Sansa doesn't miss the sudden hardness in her usually warm brown eyes. "Have you met the Lady Sansa and the Lady Arya, Lord Eddard's daughters?"

Viserys approaches them, his nostrils flaring, and Sansa quickly sinks into a courtesy.

"Why would I want to meet that goatfucker's daughters?" Viserys huffs.

Sansa's mouth falls open, but her hand instinctively flies out to grab Arya by the wrist.

"No wonder you've sought out their company, Rhae," he continues with a cruel smile. "You fit right in. Dornish or Northerner, doesn't make much of a difference, does it? You're all dumb, smelly savages."

Arya's fingers are digging into Sansa's hand and Rhaenys looks as if she's about to murder her uncle.

A chill creeps up Sansa's spine as she feels Viserys' eyes raking up and down her body.

"At least this one looks decent," he murmurs before leaving them again.

_v._

_The day before Aegon and Margaery's wedding, Jon is woken by the sound of screams coming from Viserys' chambers._

Daenerys is standing in the middle of the room, staring at the horribly burned body sticking out of the fireplace. 

"What have you done?" Jon gasps. He knows it's a stupid question. What he should be asking is _"What did he do to you?"_, but he knows she won't answer that.

"He was no true dragon," Dany whispers. "Fire cannot kill a dragon."

"Get rid of your night-rail," he tells her. "It's singed, and you reek of smoke."

_vi._

_Aegon and Margaery are wed on the first day of the new year. _

Sansa feels honoured and pleased to be seated next to Princess Rhaenys at the wedding. She likes the Princess. She's strong, and she has a fire in her that reminds Sansa of her sister, but she's more restrained, and she always knows the right thing to say.

Still, she feels a pang in her heart seeing Margaery sitting next to Aegon in her beautiful wedding gown. Rhaenys never misses a thing and asks her if she's alright. 

"Of course," Sansa answers, hoping her smile appears genuine. "I'm just a little tired, and it's awfully hot in here."

"Perhaps you should go for a stroll in the gardens," Rhaenys suggests. "Have you seen the wishing well near the fig tree?"

"The wishing well?" Sansa asks breathlessly.

Rhaenys smiles and winks at her. "It's said that if you make an offering to the gods there, your wish will come true."

_vii._

_Jon finds Sansa in the gardens, sitting on the edge of the wishing well._

"Sansa?" Jon calls out softly, trying not to startle her. When she looks up he can see that her eyes are puffy.

"Can I sit with you for a spell?"

She nods.

"Are you alright?" he asks her after a short silence.

"You must think I'm silly," she mutters.

_Aye, it's silly that a girl like you is wasting her time pining after my ponce of a brother_, he thinks, but he won't tell her that.

He clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath. 

"My brother wouldn't make you happy, Sansa. Trust me when I say that." Many people would pity Margaery Tyrell before the year was over. 

"But I'd be married to the prince. I'd be queen someday, and my son would be the next king. My family would have been proud of me."

"We're already proud of you, Sansa," he mumbles.

She takes his hand and squeezes it. "Thank you, Jon."

He reaches into his pocket. "Here," he tells her. "I brought you something." He hands her the small parcel.

She takes it and opens the cloth, a radiant smile lighting up her face when she discovers the lemon cake he wrapped in it. "Oh, Jon! Thank you, it's perfect!"

"_You see_?" he wants to tell her. "_I already know how to make you happy_." But of course, he doesn't. 

_viii_.

_After Jon leaves, Sansa decides to share her sorrow with the gods in the well and tells them how she wishes it was still possible for her to marry the prince and become queen. She accidentally drops her lemon cake into the well, not knowing that the story Rhaenys told her is more than an old wives tale and that the gods have heard her wish and accepted her offer. _

_A couple of months after the wedding, unsuccessful in getting her husband to bed her, Margaery sneaks into Jon's room. _

Daenerys paces back and forth in front of the fireplace. Jon can do nothing more than sit there, dazed after what's just happened, and thank the gods she came to him after having another nightmare about Viserys.

"You must tell him."

Jon rubs at his temples. It's as if he's still asleep, despite the shock he's just experienced. "Wait," he mutters. "Wait, Dany."

"You know I'm right," she insists. "She'll try again."

"I think you scared her off," he mutters. He hopes she's wrong. He has no desire to wake up to his brother's wife straddling him and trying to kiss him ever again. 

"Perhaps," she shrugs. "But there are other men in the capital."

Jon doesn't want to consider what she's implying. He thought the Tyrell girl was smarter than this. If she gets caught, it will mean war. "It's only been a couple of moons. Surely there's still time for them to find a way to... for him to-- complete the act."

Dany sits down on the edge of his bed, shaking her head. "She's desperate."

She must be if she'd decided to come to his chambers tonight. The fog in his mind is starting to clear away. "Why? What happened?"

She laughs. "You haven't heard? I shouldn't be surprised."

"Heard what?"

"She found him in a _compromising_ position." 

Jon doesn't need her to explain. They've all known for years, but of course, his father had taken great care to hide that information from the Tyrells. There's only one detail that could be of interest.

"Who?" he asks.

"Her brother."

_ix._

_Daenerys informs Rhaegar and Aegon about Margaery's attempt to seduce Jon. Aegon and Loras decide to run off to Essos together, and the Tyrells are allowed to return to Highgarden without any further consequences, provided that they'll keep sharing Highgarden's bounty with the Targaryens and King's Landing. _

Jon's head is pounding when he wakes up. He should have stopped after his second flagon of ale last night, but he knew what was coming today.

He's barely dressed himself when the knock on the door to his solar comes.

"Come in!" he croaks out, even though he'd rather tell whoever is standing there to fuck off.

It's Rhaenys who enters the room, a smirk appearing on her face when she looks him up and down.

"I've brought you food to break your fast," she says as one of her maids follows her inside, putting a tray of food on the table before curtseying and leaving again.

He opens his mouth to object, the smell of the bacon and Dornish peppers making his stomach turn.

"You'll feel better," she cuts him off. "You'll need to feel better."

He sits down and hangs his head. "It should be you," he mutters after a long silence.

"Aye, it should be," she says, and he glances up in surprise. "But we both know the lords would never accept that."

"I'm sorry, I never wanted this."

"I know." She takes a seat next to him. "But don't worry. I'll be here for you. I won't stand by and allow you to lead these kingdoms to their ruin."

"I'm not the King," he reminds her, reaching for the Dornish drink made of bitter beans. "Not yet. It's a little early to be requesting a position as my advisor."

She laughs. "May I still offer you some advice?"

He groans. "Seriously?"

"You should marry Sansa Stark."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wish I'd had time to expand this, and maybe one day I will, but this is what I can give you for now!
> 
> Part x will be posted for day 7: royals


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